The Case of the Missing Heart
by ValleyA
Summary: Peter goes to the cabin after Paul leaves to battle his demons


**"The Case of the Missing Heart"**

_Author's Notes:_

_This story came out of a yahoo groups Fu Renagades challenge called "The Case of Missing (fill in the blank)" in reference to the episode the Chinatown Murder Mystery: The Case of the Poisoned Hand. This is my version._

**"The Case of the Missing Heart"**

**by valleya**

_**(set immediately after the episode "Retribution")**_

Peter Caine arrived at the lakeside cabin just as the sun was setting after working all day. The thought of going back to his empty apartment had lacked all appeal. Besides, he was angry – angry with Kermit for stating the obvious; angry with Paul for disappearing with no way for his family to contact him. Hell, he was just angry in general.

He'd driven out of the city to avoid going home and wound up heading north.

As he drove, he remembered. In the weeks following Paul's disappearance, Peter had spent many a night unable to sleep, torturing himself with Paul's absence, trying to come up with the one place Paul might go to 'battle with his demons'.

Peter had tried everything he could think of to find Paul, even mediating, focusing his thoughts solely on Paul, trying to get a bead on his location. It was a feat his father probably could have done easily, but all it did for Peter was escalate his loneliness and frustration and almost always gave him a gnarly headache.

Peter had never been one to idly sit by, but from the very start, Peter had absolutely no idea where Paul had gone, only that he'd seemed to have dropped off the face of the planet. He'd used every detective trick he could think of to find him.

He was working himself into exhaustion when finally Kermit put a hand on his shoulder right before he'd left work that night. "Give it up, kid. Paul's gone into hiding for a reason. And whatever the reason is, once he's gone underground, there's no use in trying to find him. I know. I've spent the last two weeks discreetly searching for him and I've come up with absolutely nothing. It's time to give it up until Paul is ready to come home again."

Peter stared at Kermit for a moment before he jerked his arm away from Kermit's touch. He began pacing, and then he whirled around, pointing a finger at the ex-merc. "I can't just stop looking for him, Kermit. What if he's hurt or needs backup? We can't just let him hang in the wind without some kind of assistance!"

Kermit folded his arms in front of him. "What if anything we might try to do to help him only puts him further into harm's way? No, we have to trust Paul will call for help if he needs it. Until then, we drop the entire topic."

Peter gaped at his friend in disbelief before ripping his jacket from the back of his chair and storming out of the bullpen. He didn't say a word, mostly because he couldn't trust his voice to remain steady or for the hot tears of disappointment to keep from falling in front of his coworkers.

As Peter left the city, he started talking to himself out of frustration. "Maybe Paul went to the cabin? I mean, what better place for Dad to go to than the protected seclusion of their lakeside cabin? The place is isolated, fully stocked, and relatively unknown except for our family, and a few trusted friends. Hell, Paul just might be hiding out up there!"

Peter sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he considered the possibility. It was too obvious, but Peter couldn't help himself from hoping. "Wouldn't it be something if he'd been only a hundred miles away from us all this time?"

Peter took a deep breath to settle his excitement. "It's just a possibility, but if it's true, it would be a miracle. Just to see him again and give him a hug. Please let him be there," he whispered as he picked up speed.

Once Peter arrived at the cabin, he got out of the car slowly, stretching stiff and tired muscles back into movement. "Geez, I need to start working out more," Peter muttered as he straightened and took a deep breath of the clean mountain air.

Peter scanned the area around him quickly, and was disappointed when he didn't see any other vehicles parked around the cabin. In fact, the place looked like no one had been there since the Labor Day vacation the family spent up there. It was the very last thing the family had done together. That memory made him ache with its recall.

Now, when Annie, Carolyn, Kelly, and Peter gathered for a nice dinner, Paul's absence felt like a gaping wound in the collective of the family – something that could only be healed by Paul's return and nothing else.

The memories of happier times brought tears to Peter's eyes as he stared out over the waters of the gently lapping lake. His melancholy imagination wondered what it would be like to spend the rest of his life without ever seeing the man who had been his father during those formative years where he grew from a teenager into a man.

His imagination grew, leaving a cold, and lonely image in his mind, especially when he thought of all the things he would need and want Paul to share with him in his life as they came to pass – things like being a part of Peter's wedding, that was if Peter ever settled down with the right woman, and then there was the possibility of children, and a home of his own. Who he would want to turn to, instead of Paul, for advice on all of those positive changes in his life?

Peter's natural father, Kwai Chang, knew of many things, but he didn't have Paul's practical knowledge of how to check out a house he wanted to buy, where to look for possible problems in the construction, how to negotiate the best loan rates, how to...

He sighed, then shivered as he realized a world without Paul would be a much darker one than he had ever known. Paul had been very influential for many of Peter's life choices, his likes and dislikes, second only to Peter's biological father, Kwai Chang Caine, but when it came down to looking at the actual time span, Paul had been Peter's father for more years than Kwai Chang. That had to count for something.

Yet, now his 'father' of so many years was on the run, battling unknown demons, and it all had to do with protecting the family he loved from harm. All Peter could see was the harm it was doing to those he loved. The strain was weighing heavily on all of them, especially Annie. Peter tried to get out to visit her at least once a week during these trying times, but it wasn't enough. Nothing would ever be enough until Paul was back home with her as he should be.

Peter sighed as he rubbed his stiff neck muscles. He was flooded with a swell of negative emotions: anger, sadness, disappointment, and frustration to name a few.

Now, he realized his trip up to the family's cabin had proven to be an exercise in futility.

Paul wasn't there. Peter could feel it with his gut, even without searching the place.

Paul was... somewhere else. And not knowing exactly where Paul was hiding out, not knowing if he was well and safe, caused a slow, yet growing, ache for Peter, despite Paul's promised to return as soon as he could.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut as he recalled his final conversation with Paul at his father's loft apartment. That conversation had been so tender, yet so traumatic, and it was etched into his soul, as if it had been done by a sadistic tattoo artist. The wound of Paul's departure, though barely a month old, still flowed freely with newly spilt blood.

"And it's not gonna stop bleeding until Dad is home again with us, safe and sound," Peter whispered to himself as he rubbed his chest, as if he were rubbing the actual wound on his heart.

The only problem was, since Paul's departure, Peter had discovered he'd lost his heart, or whatever it was that a man called the place where he kept all those dear and loving emotions. It had vanished, along with Paul, leaving a gaping hole in his chest.

A man without a heart. Peter grunted as he shook his head. "That either makes me the Tin Man or a psychopath. The hell of it is that it's true. I've lost my heart and I might never get it back again until Paul returns."

With the sitting sun, the chill came creeping off the lake like some hungry predator on a hunt, and it had zeroed in on Peter.

"Well, come and get whatever's left of me!" Peter shouted, deciding he had lost his mind, along with his heart. "There's not much left, but you're welcome to it. I always imagined without a heart or a soul, I wouldn't hurt so much. And yet I do."

Peter gave into a tear that streaked down his cheek as he leaned against the hood of his car, which was still warm from the trip up. That was the moment when he realized the chill in his physical body. He hadn't bothered with the heater on the way up. It had been so long since he'd eaten, he couldn't remember the last time.

He stood with his keys in his hands beside the open door of his car, torn between leaving and staying. With a final sigh, he decided to spend the night there, mostly because he was too tired to drive back. He locked up the car, and took out a small duffle bag from the trunk of his car, where he kept extra supplies for staying over, if the need should arise.

Peter plodded up the stairs to the front door of the cabin and turned back, staring at the beauty of the lake and forest around him. "God, Paul loved this place. And the two of us did so many home improvement projects around here. It's a very different place than when Paul first bought it. "Those silent moments where we worked for hours on end without saying a word brought us closer together than hours of conversation could ever do."

Maybe, Paul planned for it to turn out that way. Maybe not. But, with the two of them working so hard together, a miracle happened along the way. Their relationship bonded into something so solid and strong, it was like tempered steel, something that could never be broken. At least, not until now. Not until Paul's absence. Even then, the bond wasn't broken, just stretched very thin.

He sighed, "What the hell am I doing? Talking to myself in an empty cabin, miles from another living soul, torturing myself over something I have no control over. I should just turn around and leave – "

Peter stopped when he saw the big white swing that hung from the beams covering the cabin's front porch. The sight drew him forward and he couldn't resist sitting on the porch swing. He rubbed his fingers across the glossy wooden seat and began to swing back and forth, smiling when the supports began to squeak in rhythm. Peter had spent so many lazy summer days there in that exact spot watching the boats drift by on the lake. Memories of happier times flooded his thoughts as his gaze became focused on the lake.

"Talk to me, lady of the lake, as Paul used to call you. Tell me where Paul is. Is he safe? Is he okay? You've known him longer than I have and you've protected him many times when the water threatened to take his life in one accident or another."

Peter stopped swinging, and leaned forward, his eyes glistening with tears. "Where is my dad? Just tell me and I'll leave you alone."

He paused, recognizing the insanity of what he was doing, but continued anyway, whispering, "I have to find him."

The silence that followed told Peter nothing, but it did seem to ease his aching soul ever so slightly.

A moment later, he shuddered from the cold. "I better make things warmer inside, otherwise I'll become a human popsicle and that would really be an embarrassing way to go."

He forced himself up and into the house. Soon, there was a fire in the fireplace, and then he went to sweet talk the cabin's generator into life, so he could have lights for the night and a warm shower in the morning.

When he was done, his stomach grumbled and he yawned with fatigue. He'd managed a decent meal from the miscellaneous canned and dry goods in the pantry, opting to eat it on the sofa in the living room. It wasn't much later before he dropped off to sleep, covered with one of Annie's hand-crocheted afghans.

Peter had no idea how long he'd been asleep when he felt a nudging at his leg. He resisted it for as long as he could before he opened his eyes. He froze for a moment, barely breathing, as he recognized Paul standing beside him.

Peter sat up so quickly, he nearly fell off the sofa before Paul caught him and steadied him.

"P-Paul? Is it really you?" he exclaimed, reaching out to touch the man who had been his father in so many ways.

"Who do you think it is? The Easter Bunny?" the former police captain quipped as he sat down on the coffee table.

Paul stared at the afghan now on the hardwood floor, the leftover dinner plate, glass and silverware spread across the rest of the coffee table and sighed. "Oh, Annie'd have your hide for leaving such a mess."

Peter nodded his head in agreement. "Don't worry, I was planning on cleaning it up before I leave. Paul, when the hell did you get here and from where? Geez, I had a thousand questions for you and now my mind's a complete blank."

Paul smiled and rumpled Peter's hair before pulling him into a bear hug. Peter dropped down to his knees and held onto Paul as he sat in place on the coffee table. He'd worried so much about Paul and now he was there, with him, and Peter was determined never to let go of him again.

"I've missed you too, son," Paul's baritone voice echoed in Peter's ear.

"Not as much as I've missed you," Peter whispered back, pressing his face against Paul's neck. "God, it's so good to see you again!"

Paul pulled away a little and smiled, then he reached forward and placed a hand over Peter's heart. "Is this back where it should be now?"

Peter laughed out loud and said yes before he gaped with amazement and wondered how Paul knew about the comment Peter had made upon his arrival at the cabin. Peter wouldn't have given it a second thought if it had come from Kwai Chang Caine, but Paul Blaisdell? Now, that was a new one for him.

Not caring about mysteries, and only rejoicing in the glory of the moment, Peter cast aside his unspoken questions and gazed into Paul's blue eyes, eyes Peter had feared he'd never see again.

Emotion hit Peter hard, and Peter hugged Paul again, patting him on the back before he slowly pulled himself back into a sitting position on the golden heirloom-patterned sofa. Peter continued to stare at Paul intently, now quiet with a stupid grin on his face.

"Peter, you keep staring at me like that and I'll begin to think you're planning on eating me for breakfast."

Peter chuckled, "Sorry, it's just so damned good to see you again. Annie was afraid that you might be away for a very long time."

Paul scratched at his forehead. "I'm sorry for putting everyone through that goodbye, with all its mystery and lack of solid answers, but I was only looking to protect you all until the danger had passed."

Peter leaned forward. "And has it?"

Paul bent down and started picking up dirty dishes. "How about I clean up this mess while you hop into the shower? By the time you're dressed, I'll have some breakfast ready and we can talk about this in greater detail."

Peter started to play the obedient son, heading up the stairs. Everything felt so real, so right, so much as he'd been hoping for, except... Peter stopped short. Spinning back around to face Paul, he gasped with dismay. What if he was only dreaming, only attempting to make real one of his most heartfelt wishes?

His hand grasped the bannister firmly as he took a step down toward Paul. He stared at Paul so hard, it made his head ache. "You aren't real, are you, Paul? I mean, I mean... I'm still dreaming, aren't I? It's not exactly a nightmare, but the pain of knowing it isn't real is worse than any nightmare I've ever had."

Paul set the dirty dishes on the kitchen tablet and hung his head for a moment before he straightened and looked Peter squarely in the eye. That was when Peter knew with certainty. It was all just a dream.

"You needed to see me, son, so you conjured me up."

Peter forced himself down another step. "What happens now? I just wake up and you disappear?" Peter's voice was angry, lashing at the deception, but strangely he wasn't angry with the faux Paul.

"Maybe. Or maybe you and I get a chance to talk that wouldn't be possible in the real world."

Peter stood in place, fuming as his heart and his mind fought for an answer, but finally his heart won out – the same heart that had been missing, the heart that had somehow been returned as quickly as it had ripped from his chest a month ago.

"It doesn't make any sense, but then most of my dreams rarely do, so I guess I'll opt to talk to you, providing you give me some straight answers."

"I'll do my best, for what it's worth. Just remember, this is just a dream."

Peter didn't waste any time. "Where have you been hiding?"

Paul glanced away. "That's information that cannot be shared at the moment."

Peter glared at him in response. "And have you battled your inner demons as you called them?"

"I'm making progress and that's all I can say."

"Well, what's the use of having you here, if you can't give me any useful information?" Peter's anger flared anew.

Paul didn't answer him right away. Peter was about to explode when Paul spoke softly, "Son, you were lost without your heart to give you comfort and strength, and also to share that strength with others, so I came to return the missing item."

"What the hell – " Peter interrupted, but Paul ignored him.

"You know exactly what I mean. You talked to the lake about it when you got out of your car this very evening!"

"But... but I don't understand."

"What's to understand? You said I took your heart with me with I left and I've come to give it back to you. But it's not just for you. It's for the others who are hurting right now, too. Those people need your love and strength to help carry them through this trying time, just as much as you needed to see and talk to me. It's for Annie and the girls, for Kermit and Strenlich, and the others at the 101st. They will need your strength when they falter and believe me, it will happen once or twice before I'm back."

Paul slapped his thigh with disgust. "I never should have allowed any of them to become so dependent upon me or so close. If I hadn't, they wouldn't be having such a difficult time with this."

Peter took a step towards this dream version of Paul. "How could they not grow close to you and look up to you as a man to be admired? Geez, Paul, you're everything I'd ever want to be. And it's felt by the others at home and those at the precinct. It was your strength that carried us many a time when days were dark and hope was in short supply."

Paul's chin trembled and he placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Thanks for saying that, son. I didn't realize I needed some of your strength until right now."

Peter put a hand to Paul's cheek. "Is it possible you might actually be feeling my strength wherever you are at this very moment?"

Paul shrugged. "I can't say for sure, but I'd like to think it's possible."

Peter met Paul's gaze. "You really do mean to be gone for a long time."

Paul nodded. "The problems I must resolve can't be done overnight. That is why I came to visit you tonight. You will need all the strength your heart can provide in the coming days."

Peter sat down on the sofa in front of Paul, wrapping his arms around his chest. "And if I falter?"

"You are not alone, son. There are others to dole out strength when you falter. That's the magic of disaster when it affects so many. Some are strong when others are weak, and vice versa. You get each other by until the time when I can clean up things enough to come home again."

"I miss you like hell," Peter said, his eyes shimmering.

Paul's gaze went distant and Peter could practically feel the waves of sadness coming off Paul. "It's nothing like what I'm going through, son. Being apart from those I love is pure hell, but I will return. You need to encourage the others to be strong and believe in my return."

Peter nodded. It was the echoing of words of his father, Kwai Chang Caine, had said to Peter soon after Paul had left weeks before. Words Peter had rejected. The memory made Peter shiver. He didn't feel encouraged himself, so how could he possibly be a help to others?

Peter walked away from Paul to the front door and opened it, staring out at the silvery impression the early morning left on the lake and Peter remembered his earlier plea. "Are you the answer I begged the lady of the lake to send to me?"

Paul smiled. "Now, that would be silly. I am Paul Blaisdell, dreaming just as you are, but when I awaken, I won't remember or understand as much as you will, because you are more closely tied to your dreams, but I believe the essence of our conversation will be with me."

Peter locked Paul into another bear hug. He closed his eyes and whispered, "Remember this before anything else. I love you, and if it could be me that was banished to battle those demons instead of you, I'd have grabbed the opportunity in a heartbeat. So many others need you than those that need me."

"Rubbish!" Paul growled as he pulled away, anger evident in his every move.

When Paul turned back to face Peter, his harsh expression was now softened with love. "Peter, you'll never know how much I needed a son like you in my life. And I'll never be the same because of you. Sure, you gave me some gray hairs, a few breathless moments, but you gave me renewed life, too. It's hard to describe. Carolyn and Kelly are the light of my life, but there was something lacking in my life until you.

"From the very first moment I saw you at the orphanage, I could tell you had a strong heart, and determination... once I looked past that huge chip you carried around on your shoulder."

Paul chuckled at the memory, and then turned sad again as the two men both fought tears and unspoken heartache. Finally, they embraced one last time.

Paul cleared his throat and rubbed a hand over his face as he began talking again. "I will do all I can speed my return home, but, for now, I must go. You need to rest and so do I."

"No, please, not yet. We've got so much to – "

"Peter, when I say I must go, there is no question of the decision. Take care of your mother and the girls. Watch out for the gang at work. Look over them all. You will be my strength and my presence for them while I am gone."

Peter wiped away the moisture on his face with the back of his hand. "Hurry back to us. You're a part of our lives and without you, we're not whole."

Paul's eyes teared up with Peter's statement and he nodded. "I'll be back as quickly as I can."

Peter felt his limbs growing heavy, along with his eyelids and within moments, he was deep asleep again.

When he awoke again, he smiled before he opened his eyes, reveling in the miracle of his dream, trying to remember every detail about it when he heard someone cooking in the kitchen.

He bolted upright. "What the hell?" he asked as his eyes scanned the living room and found the mess he had left the night before had been cleaned up, and the sound of bacon and eggs sizzling brought him to his feet.

"P-Paul?" he called out as he stumbled toward the kitchen. "Is that you?"

His anticipation died off when he saw Kwai Chang step out of the kitchen and he couldn't mask his disappointment, anymore than he could wipe the lost expression from his face.

"Pop? I'm sorry... I was dreaming about Paul during the night. When I heard noises in the kitchen, I thought he might really be here."

Kwai Chang's expression took on a sadness of its own. "I know of your dream and I did not want you to be alone when you awoke this morning. Your feelings regarding Captain Blaisdell are quite strong and his absence has hit you hard, harder than anything since... "

Kwai Chang paused, but Peter completed the sentence for him as he slumped against the kitchen wall. "...since I was told you had died in the temple's destruction. God, I hadn't made that connection before. You're probably right. That's why this whole thing with Paul feels like it's reaching out from the past with the same level of devastation. No wonder I've been freaking out over this."

Kwai Chang took his son into his arms and hugged him. "It only shows how strongly you love your fathers, both of us, and how deeply our absences disturbs your soul."

Peter stepped away from Kwai Chang, wrapping his arms around his own chest, cold, yet flushed with anger and frustration. "Why... why do I have to go through this twice in one lifetime? I mean, I know Paul isn't dead, but it still feels as though I've been stabbed through the heart."

"Perhaps, that was why your heart went missing for these past few weeks. It has been searching for answers while trying to protect you from very old heartaches."

"Pop, how did you know... ah, hell, never mind. You're right. Of course, you're right. You're always right. I'm the one stumbling around in the dark."

Kwai Chang placed his jacket around Peter's shoulders to help ease Peter's shivering. "You are not stumbling in the dark. You're searching. Searching for one of your fathers. A noble endeavor. But in this case, you must trust in your second father, trust that he is doing the right thing and that he will be home as soon as he can."

"Trust is damned hard to do sometimes," Peter whispered.

"It is easier than allowing yourself to wallow in pain. Pain will always occur in our lives – there is no escaping it, but we do not need to remain in misery. We have a choice to trust and believe that your father's life is in the hands of beings greater than ourselves."

Peter nodded and looked up at Kwai Chang before embracing him again. "God, I'm so glad you were here when I woke up this morning. It would have been ugly, otherwise. Geez, I just miss Paul so much. Last night's dream was so satisfying... and so brief. It only left me wanting more."

"Of course, it does. If not, you would not be the son Paul and I love. But why do you say ugly? For what reason, my son?"

Peter looked at him in confusion. He thought his statement was self-evident.

Kwai Chang's expression softened and he put a hand to Peter's cheek. "You have had your heart returned to you with assurances that your other father is doing well. You should be elated with such developments. When you focus on the positive, that is what you will see. When you focus on the negative... "

Peter ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, yeah, I catch your meaning."

Kwai Chang again cupped Peter's cheek, and Peter wondered if his father needed to maintain a physical contact with him to keep him grounded and strong.

"I will always be here for you, my son, until your other father returns. I will be here when you need me and sometimes... simply when I need you."

Peter's chin quivered with his father's touching words, recalling the conversation they'd had after Paul first left to begin his journey away from those he loved.

_*Your father will return.*_

Bringing Peter back into the present, Kwai Chang directed Peter to look straight into his eyes. As if reading Peter's mind, Kwai Chang whispered, "Remember, I came back."

Suddenly, there was a weight lifted from Peter's shoulders. Somehow, someway, he was sure Paul would be back one day. When Paul was ready and only when it was the proper time.

Peter hugged his father one more time quickly and with purpose, followed by a quick peck of a kiss to Kwai Chang's forehead, and then he backed away, licking his lips.

"Um, how about I hop in the shower and change clothes? Then we can dig into that awesome breakfast you have cooking there?"

Kwai Chang nodded once with a twinkle in his eye.

Peter turned to leave before he spun back around again. "Pop?"

Kwai Chang's expression darkened. "Do not call me – "

"Oops, Dad, I meant to say Dad."

Kwai Chang smiled at Peter as he lingered in the doorway leading into the living room and then pointed at him. "Somehow, I have a feeling you _'assisted' _in some way with the return of my heart. And I just want to say thanks. For everything. For everything little thing you do in my life. You and Paul gave me the heart I have now. For that, I'll be eternally grateful."

Kwai Chang bowed before his son and Peter dashed up the stairs. "Don't worry about anything burning or cooking too long. I take fast showers, especially when there is food waiting for me."

Kwai Chang heard the shower running. He smiled and shook his head. Many times, Peter was an enigma to him, just as Peter said he was to him. But Kwai Chang couldn't imagine anyone else being his son. Peter, the son with two fathers. Peter who had suffered through the disappearances of both. Peter had such a tenacious spirit. He would survive Paul's absence and Kwai Chang meant to remain close at hand to ensure he did.

Maybe, that was the magic of fathers and sons. Together or apart, they would always share their strengths through the distance that separates them and they carry on. They persevere, encouraging others with their strength. How fortunate he'd been that fate had allowed the reunion between Kwai Chang and Peter... but, perhaps, fate would be kinder in Paul's case. Fifteen years apart had nearly destroyed both father and son the last time.

Kwai Chang turned back to his breakfast preparations. Yes, fate would be kinder this time, he was sure of it. He looked up at the ceiling as he heard Peter singing in the shower and smiled. Somehow, they all persevere. Sometimes, even with song.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**The End**

13


End file.
